Cowboy Crunchies
by Krazy Keys Inc
Summary: The only cereal sugar coated and dipped in chocolate presents...A collection of one-shots and short plots. Set in the wild west, you may perceive it as half-human, cartoon-ish, or whatever your mind desires.
1. Cheddar

A/N Caution: Some parts of this story may be pretty cheesy! I wanted to mix my own modern-day style writing with the old-fashioned Woody's Round-Up, thus some pretty ridiculous happenings! (You all have _no_ idea how many times I watched that part of Toy Story 2, just to make sure I could include all the components of the show that were shown in the movie.) A/N

The clouds rumbled up above while the stormy winds rustled branches. The streets were deserted. If one would listen carefully, all they would hear was the creaking of the pub doors. If one had _incredibly _good hearing, they might be able to hear the mumbling voices emitting from the pub or maybe the schoolhouse up on the hill. There was indeed an afternoon storm approaching, but for the most part the town that the sheriff called home was rather quiet.

Woody sat in the sheriff's office, humming a tune while he read the weekly newspaper. On his desk was a cup of coffee that had gone cold, some legal paperwork, and various pictures of his friends and family. If someone was clever enough to look inside his desk drawers, they would find a stash of secret snacks, hidden away for long nights of work.

In the distance, a loud bell rang. The sheriff instantly knew it was three in the afternoon, for that was when school let out. And sure enough, a few moments later he heard the stomping feet of running children through his open door. He didn't dare take a peek outside, for the dust that was disturbed from the running children did no good for his year-round allergies. So everyday the sheriff would sit inside his office while the rowdy children ran by, and sometimes he even wondered what it would be like to have children of his own.

After the noise and dust clouds subsided, Woody went outside and began strolling leisurely through the streets, waving at the various townspeople that needed his help every now and again. This time of the day was usually when people would call upon him so Woody always kept an eye out for any sign of danger.

Suddenly, a group of animals (this group consisting of squirrels, badgers, foxes, and the like), ran up and stopped in front of Woody. The squeaked in various pitches and tones, which would've been completely incoherent to any bystander, but to Woody the noises were as normal as everyday words. In fact, to him, they did sound like words.

"Bullseye's been missing all day?" Woody asked, disbelieving. One of the badgers nodded. "Jessie must be having a heart attack."

Jessie had been the one who had taught Woody to truly _listen _to the forest animals, thus getting information from them. At first the sheriff had been a little reluctant (it was a bit childish after all), but the cowgirl insisted the animals knew all the town gossip. Woody eventually gave in, after considering that with the animal's information, he could come to the rescue quicker.

After thanking his furry friends, Woody ran towards the town's one and only stable. Bullseye was usually the only horse kept in the stable; because the town was so small, most people had no need for horses.

"Jessie?" Woody called out, opening the aged wooden door, which squeaked even from his most gentlest touch. His boots made small crunches as he stepped on the hay, and towards the cowgirl who was crouching in one of the two stalls.

"Well, he left willingly." Jessie thought aloud, pointing at the hoof shaped indentations in the straw. "If he was taken against his own will, he would never have trotted out happily."

One would wonder how the cowgirl knew the distance apart from each mark meant the horse had trotted out of the barn. But the truth was, Jessie knew Bullseye in and out. If there was even one hair missing from his head, the cowgirl would know. She had observed him as a child, wishing that one day she would be able to ride him through the fields, and this is how she knew so much about him.

"Where do you think he went?" Woody asked, expecting a straight answer from her.

"I don't know!" Jessie exclaimed helplessly, "I checked at his favorite spot to drink from the river, and he wasn't there. I checked at the gold mine, but he wasn't with the Prospector. I even checked the streets and the field, but he wasn't wandering either!"

"Was he hungry? Maybe he went to go look for a snack." Woody suggested.

"No, I fed him just an hour ago. That's definitely not it." Jessie stood up and stroked her chin in thought.

Woody stood there silently, allowing Jessie some peace and quiet in order to think. The sheriff had no clue where the horse could be if he wasn't in any of the places that Jessie listed. And it wasn't possible that he ran away; he was always so happy. That meant that the horse had to be inside somewhere...

"Which buildings do you think Bullseye _wouldn't _fit in?" Jessie asked, obviously having the same thought Woody had just pondered.

"They would never let him inside the town hall, nor the school house. He's not in the police station, or the newspaper office, because I passed those on the way here." Woody listed.

"Bullseye wouldn't go into the pub; he hates the smell of beer." Jessie added.

"That leaves the general store." Woody said. Jessie quickly grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the stable. They ran all the way down main street (which was really only one of three short dirt roads in the town), and on the corner Jessie and Woody tumbled into the general store.

"Have you seen Bullseye?" Jessie asked hurriedly to the five shoppers and the storekeeper that were inside. All of them shook their heads slowly. Jessie frowned and plopped on the wooden step outside of the store sadly. Woody sat down beside her a moment later.

"We'll find him." he said comfortingly, and laid a hand on Jessie's arm.

"There's no where else he could be." the cowgirl said sadly.

"Don't give up just yet." Woody said with a slight smile.

Suddenly there was a loud crash, which sounded like it had come from underneath the ground. Jessie and Woody hopped up, both ready to deal with whatever action was about to head their way. The general store owner walked out onto the wooden porch, wiping his brow with a dirty rag. He was a tall and slender man with a black, bushy mustache.

"Good Lord! What was that?" the man yelled.

"Do you have a cellar of sorts?" Woody asked peering around the edge of the building.

"I have my own cheese cellar." the store keeper said slowly, and pointed towards the side opposite that Woody had been looking at. "You don't think something's stealing my cheese?"

"Well something's down there. And I don't think it's as small as a rat." Woody said slowly as he walked around the edge of the building. "Let's go check it out."

The sheriff's shoulders drooped in disappointment when he found the cellar to be locked securely.

"I'm glad you're taking precautions, but do you think you could unlock this for me?" Woody asked the storekeeper. The man nodded, more beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and slowly reached into his pocket.

"I-I can't find the key." he stuttered, digging through his pockets more nervously by the second.

"Great." Woody mumbled as he scrutinized the lock. Nope, this was definitely not a door he could kick down. Maybe if he had a hammer, he could break the lock...

"Outta the way!" the Prospector yelled from about twenty feet down the road. He began running, much faster than anyone had ever seen him run, and he came at the cheese cellar door at full speed. Giant dust clouds surrounded the Prospector, as if they were a force field protecting him. Using much force, he pulled back the pick ax in his hand, and with one great motion, swung down on the lock. The door gave a groan, and the lock plunked to the ground with a delightful _plunk_.

"That's how you open a lock." the aged man said with a nod.

"Thanks, Prospector!" Jessie exclaimed. Woody gave his thanks too, and opened the door carefully.

As the sheriff opened the door, there was this silence. Everyone was ready to jump back and run away at any sign of a vicious beast. But what was inside the cellar was neither vicious, nor was it a beast. (Well, maybe to the cheese it was a vicious beast.) All four of them frowned in confusion. It took Jessie and Woody a moment to understand the situation, but when they finally realized what had happened, the two started laughing. The Prospector soon joined in, while the storekeeper stood with his arms crossed and a frown upon his face.

"Bullseye!" Jessie yelled. She entered the cellar with Woody close behind. The cowgirl threw an arm over the horse's neck.

There Bullseye sat with rosy, guilty cheeks. These cheeks were puffed out, for they were filled with cheese. Small crumbs were scattered across Bulleye's mouth, and his eyes were upright as though he were smiling widely. (Bullseye actually _was _trying to smile, but the cheese did not allow him to do so completely.)

"But what about my cheese?" the storekeeper asked angrily.

"You don't want him to give it back, do you?" Jessie asked.

A/N Woo-Hoo! I just realized this is my tenth story! *puts on a sparkly party hat* Who ever reviews gets a slice of tenth story celebration cake! And yes, I _will _take any suggestions you all have. :) I'd love to hear from you all! A/N


	2. Recreated

A/N Yes, yes, I know it has taken me a while for this update! I _was _writing another chapter with a totally different plot, but about halfway it just came to a complete standstill. I'll probably get back to that chapter later. So basically I'm copying and pasting part of my Author's Note, and starting out fresh! This chapter is based off of a story we read in English today; A Retrieved Reformation by O. Henry (O. Henry was raised in my homeland- North Carolina!) So…Sorry in advance to O. Henry's lawyer, if you're reading this. But in my defense, I'm not copying the story word for word; I'm simply using the idea and major happenings in the story to inspire me. :)

Misshumanoidtyphoon: :D Thanks! That's my job; writing things that people enjoy...Wait, I don't get paid! Would that be considered a job?

Evelyn Knight: Hee hee, when I first got the email that you reviewed my story, I had to blink a few times to make sure I was seeing correctly. I finally thought, 'No way! I love Toys and Dolls!' :) (Not to be a creepy fan girl or anything... O_O)

FanFicAddict02: :O He stole your cheese? It's time to plot for revenge! And I _love _the word you came up with...I wonder how I can incorporate that into this chapter...(Don't sue me. I already have O. Henry's lawyer on my tail. :P) 'I'm loving it.' Thanks, Shannon, now you've got me craving McDonald's.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or put this story on alert! *gives you all pieces of cake*

To get this straight, (since there seemed to be comments in reviews that were slightly opposite), I haven't planned on this story to be a JessiexWoody fic. *braces for a slap from some of you* I thought I'd tell you now before you get dissapointed. I always like putting a bit of fluff in my chapters. :3 But who knows, maybe this story will turn into a JessiexWoody fic. You never can tell with me!

Oh, and the order of events in this chapter may be a bit confusing. Just a warning! (Sorry for the long Author's Note. :S) A/N

No one new ever moved into town. That's why Woody loved living in the town; he knew all the faces well. And if a new face _did _happen to appear, the sheriff would be on his or her tail, seeing if they were any trouble.

Which brought Woody back to the matter of a few weeks ago, when he had first spotted the young woman who was now sitting before him with handcuffs dangling from her wrists. The woman (who couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen), had jet black hair which fell nearly all the way down her back in soft waves. She had emerald green eyes which glistened with her lust for adventure. She almost always wore a cheeky smile, showing off her dazzling white teeth. Though beautiful, the smile was obviously not a smile one would trust.

"Hello," Woody had greeted, "Can I help you with something?" The girl had been wandering aimlessly about the general store. Woody believed he had a right to question her purity.

"Oh, hello!" she had jumped, obviously (or maybe not) startled by Woody's sudden appearance. "Hello...Sherrif." the girl repeated, pointing at his badge.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Just new in town, that's all." the girl gave her famous smile.

"What's your name?" Woody didn't mean to seem obtrusive, but he wanted to get to the point. If this girl meant trouble, he had to get as much information as he could.

"Lady Christina."

"Lady?" Woody gave her an odd look. No one around these parts referred to themselves as "Lady".

"My father owns multiple large estates. I suppose I'm used to people calling me a lady." Christina explained. "I'm supposed to be heading to university in about a year, so my father payed for me to travel around a bit; to have a little break before I head back to school."

"That's very generous of him." Woody commented.

"He's a very generous man." And with that, Lady Christina turned on her heel and walked down the road.

That was the last the sheriff had seen of the Lady. He assumed she had gone off to the next town, or perhaps that city that was about a hundred miles away. And how surprised Woody was to hear yelling a few nights later.

It had been in the middle of the night when the sheriff shot up from his bed, having just heard some commotion across the road in the bank. Putting on his gun holster, Woody carefully tiptoed across the street and into the money shrine.

There were no candles in the bank; the room was only illuminated by the moonlight. Which only made it _that _much more creepy. Woody crept inside, being careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. He finally reached the room with the large safe.

What he saw in that room nearly shocked him. Well, not really. The sheriff had stereotyped the girl's crooked smile long before she knew he suspected her of some wicked deeds. That's why his mouth didn't drop in shock as he saw Lady Christina pointing a gun at the banker.

The banker, who was an average man (average in height, weight, and features), was shaking in fright. The Lady had awoken him from his somewhat peaceful dreams with her constant clanging of tools.

These tools were laid out on the floor in a vast array of shiny rows. Each tool was silver, and each had a different purpose. There were drills and clamps, along with other devices.

The door to the large safe was ajar as Christina slowly packed her things, (along with a large sum of money from the safe). She continued to point the gun, now taking turns between Woody and the banker, as she made her way out the door. Woody heard her boots thumping on the dirt road steadily, and it was obvious to him that she was running away.

Woody had made a snapshot of her tools and bag in his head. He knew the only way to catch the clever young woman was to find her instruments. And maybe locating her next crime would be a good idea, too.

~()~

Which brought Woody back to sitting in his stiff wooden chair, facing the Lady herself.

Sure, he had caught Lady Christina with ease; it wasn't hard to find her a few towns over, stealing more goods. But what nipped at Woody's consience was how Christina had willingly let him handcuff her. Most _normal _wrongdoers would've at least attempted to run away, much less hold out their hands in surrender.

Of course, Lady Christina wasn't simply a regular prisoner Woody kept. Most men that passed by the police station's open doors would gawk at the sight of the Lady. Perhaps is was her exquisite beauty, or simply the presence she brought to a room. But she was most certainly one of the wonders of the world.

"Go ahead. Give me my retribution." Christina said with a slight grin.

"I don't think I will." Woody said, sighing and leaning back in his chair. He looked her in the eyes with a clever gaze as he folded his hands in his lap.

"Excuse me, what?" she sat up straighter and narrowed her eyes.

"I think I'll let you off the hook."

"You're not making any sense, sir." Christina said virtuously.

"Are you _really _a Lady?" Woody asked, ignoring her previous comment.

"Do you dare suggest I'm not?"

"Certainly your father wouldn't approve of such acts. When I let you go, maybe you should go apologize to him; all his money is going to waste on burglary tools and train tickets to your next victims." At this, Lady Christina simply huffed and sat back in her chair.

If her father were even alive, sure, he wouldn't approve of this at all. He _had _indeed been a rich man, making his living off the land in simple ways. This had seemed rather dull to Christina at an early age, so she took the first train she could to a new life- A life of adventure. No, she hadn't been at her father's deathbed, but she had been having fun. And Christina kept assuring herself that's what he would've wanted.

"Stay out of trouble."

Woody said no more after that, and promptly stood up and unlocked her from her chains. Christina wiggled her wrists around a bit, shook the sheriff's hand, and stepped out into the bright sunlight. Lady Christina was squinting as she made her way down the road, and never bothered to even look back.

~()~

That had all been a year ago as Woody told the story to Jessie. She had missed that eventful few days, having been taking a well-deserved vacation.

"And why haven't you told me about this yet?" Jessie asked with her hands on her hips. She stood up from the barn floor, brushed the stray pieces of straw off of her body, and continued to gaze at Woody with her elbows bent and hands rested at her side.

"It hasn't been on my mind until today." Woody shrugged.

"Yes, you, the one who sits and reads the newspaper all day. You're _so _busy." Jessie rolled her eyes. An awkward silence passed between the two as Woody internally denied her comment.

"Where do you think she is now?" Jessie asked after a moment.

"Oh, I reckon she's off to university by now. _If _she was even telling the truth."

Later on that same day, a matter was brought to Woody's attention. In the next town over, at leat five robberies had occurred on the same night. And when he arrived, he was shocked to see Christina's famous briefcase lying on the floor in a bank.

As Woody knelt down to scrutinize the suitcase. Why would she just _leave _it there? Obviously this suitcase meant something to her; the tools inside alone valued at one thousand dollars. Unless Lady Christina _wanted _Woody to find her...

The sheriff walked to the open door and peeped outside. He looked to the left, and looked to the right. In the evening sun, in the _very _far distance, he could see a small figure atop a hill. He quickly walked towards the young woman.

Sometimes people deserved second chances. And other times, not so much.

A/N Yeah...This was definitely one of my rambling chapters. Ideas for chapters are most certainly welcome! :) A/N


	3. Life

A/N Yes...I know this chapter took a while as well. I've been feeling pretty "bleh" lately (fall allergies most likely), so by the time it's time for me to curl up in bed and start writing, I'm already exhausted. Anyways, enough excuses, here's another chapter for you all. o^_^o

Evelyn Knight: Aw, you're so polite about it! :) There's always something we gotta root for, right?

Misshumanoidtyphoon: You're polite about it, too! :O I was just trying to clear the air.

FanFicAddict02: I actually based her off a certain character on Doctor Who. Here's a hint: She was only in one episode with David Tennant. Oh, and that makes two of us; I have no idea where this story is going. Right now I'm mostly just writing one-shots, but hopefully it will form into a story. Maybe. I originally expected this to just be a bunch of one-shots, but I have so many ideas swamping my head. And writing about snails? Hmm...

And just to let you all know, at this point, (while I'm writing the Author's Note), I have no clue what this chapter is going to be about. O_O A/N

Woody sat on a green plush seat that smelled of sweat. Across the isle, a woman held a screaming infant. On top of that, children were playing tag throughout the car. The cup of coffee that rested in his lap was mysteriously darker than the coffee he would brew himself, and it sloshed around uncontrollably. (This lead to a few spotted stains on his jeans.) All of these things combined with the sway and rattle of the train made his ride most uncomfortable.

But it wasn't as though he had a _choice._ If he _had _had a say in the matter, he would've been in his office right now drinking normal coffee and reading a newspaper. Reading without the screaming, thumping of feet, and the motion sickness the train was now causing him. The mayor of the town had sent him on a "secret mission" of sorts: to travel to the city and pick up the new desks for the school house.

There were a few things the sheriff did not understand about his current task. First of all, he didn't understand why the company refused to deliver the wooden desks to the _town's _post office. It was as though the city folk didn't want to even communicate, much less _see _the country folk.

Woody didn't find this offensive at all. He was perfectly content with his lifestyle. If others proved to be stereotypical, well, they were simply missing out.

Secondly, he wondered why the mayor had assigned him this project. Certainly there were others in town who would've been more than willing to get away for a few days. Woody had a case of the "should-haves and would-haves" while he realized he could have convinced the mayor into making Jessie go.

But there was one thing that Woody _did _understand- why they had ordered desks in the first place. The old rickety schoolhouse on top of the hill was nearly falling apart. The red paint on the outside needed a new coat, and the foundation was almost gone from years and years of erosion. On the inside, the schoolhouse didn't look quite as bad; the old and wise teacher made sure the inside could look as polished as possible. But with old desks, shelves, and blackboard, the teacher could only do so much to make the interior look somewhat appealing. And that was why the mayor had decided to order new desks.

In Woody's opinion, a new schoolhouse should have been built years ago. But for now, that still wasn't his decision to make. Perhaps another day that could be his special project.

The train shuddered suddenly. Woody gripped the arms of his chair. He grimaced, ready for an impact he was sure would come. After a few seconds, Woody opened an eye. He glanced out the window, and saw the world turning slightly outside. He sighed of relief. There was simply a curve on the track.

There was a bit of commotion a few cars up that the sheriff was surprised he could hear. His instincts kicked in for a moment, only to be broken by the noise of the children playing tag. Woody shrugged and figured it was simply more children, and picked up the newspaper that had been laying in the seat next to him.

A few minutes later, he heard more muffled yells, this time considerably closer. Woody's eyebrows furrowed as he wondered whether or not there was any _real _danger. Figuring he'd rather be safe than sorry, Woody stood up. But before he could even make his way towards the car door, a tall figure burst through.

The man was covered in black clothing; every part of his body was clothed except for his eyes. In one hand he had a gun, and in the other a bag of what seemed to be gold. The man's boots clinked as he made his way towards Woody. The two were eye-to-eye.

No words passed between the two. It was simply a staring contest. One was daring the other to blink, or even speak. There happened to be a clock on the wall of the car, and each second made a horrendous clang in the otherwise silence.

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

Suddenly, the man ran over and jumped out of an open window.

Woody stepped back, shocked. Why would anyone in their right mind do that? The man couldn't have possibly survived. The sheriff rushed to the window, and stuck his head outside. Behind the train, he saw nothing. Woody grimaced as he thought of the man getting sucked underneath the train. What a gruesome way to go.

Then, footsteps could be heard on the roof of the train.

"Is it Santa Claus?" one of the children asked. Woody rolled his eyes.

The footsteps continued to travel towards the front of the train (from what Woody could infer). He rushed from car to car, finally making his way to the front. The sheriff was not surprised when he saw the same man standing before him.

"Drop it." Woody said quietly, quickly whipping his gun out. The man simply stood there with a sly grin on his face.

The man was obviously stronger than Woody; at least a foot taller, and arm muscle as thick as Woody's thigh. Anyone could predict who would win this fight. But that's what Woody did best- proving others wrong.

"What exactly are you planning on getting out of that?" Woody nodded towards the bag of gold that the thief gripped onto for dear life.

"What do you think? I'm gonna be rich. Every man's dream." the man said, continuing to smirk. Woody noticed his opponent's hands shaking a bit. Any second now, the man would crack.

"Have you looked inside the bag?"

"Sorry, what?" the thief considered the sheriff crazy. Of course he knew what was in the bag!

"Look inside the bag." Woody repeated, waving his gun towards the sack.

"Fine." the man said shortly with a fake smile. Putting his gun in his pocket, the tall man opened the small cloth sack, which was supposedly filled with money. But the man's jaw dropped as his "gold" was instead large stones.

"Give it up. Your face is all over the wanted posters in the county." Woody still had his gun pointed at the man's chest.

The truth was that Woody had never shot a living soul. Not even a squirrel. The only time the sheriff had ever even pulled the trigger was when he was learning to use the gun. During his time of training, the "rush" he got made him rather queasy. Woody knew that if it came down to the last few seconds, he would rather get killed than take someone else's life. But he wasn't going to tell the tall man standing in front of him that.

"What are you going to do? Shoot me?" the man mocked, obviously seeing Woody's fears in his eyes.

"Thus the gun." Woody said slyly.

The man rolled his his quickly, dropped the items in his hands, and jmped out of the train window- right in the path of the railway beast itself. Woody ran to the window, hoping to hear or see the man. But nothing came.

Woody wondered why anyone would want to steal the gift of life, much rather take their own. Life was the best thing anyone could receive; it wasn't as though you could take your riches to the grave with you. Woody assumed that the theif had not been right in the head. That's what he always thought, for that was the only thing that would compensate for the losses.

And that disturbed him tremendously.

A/N I learned that while writing a western-themed story, and all else fails: write about trains! I've been watching Indiana Jones for the past week. According to the internet, Harrison Ford has now named the fifth movie: Indiana Jones: the 5th movie. Our archaeologist hero is quite creative. If you answer the questions below, you get a...uh...Preview! :

Which of the following is not the sum of three consecutive integers? **A. **51 **B. **61 **C. **72 **D. **81 What common trait do the other numbers share? A/N


	4. Oceans Apart

A/N I was checking my Story Stats for this story, (I'm not afraid to admit it. We all do it every now and then, right?), and I found out that someone from _South Africa _had read this story. That's _super _cool! So thanks to my African buddy, if you're reading this. And in order to get on with the chapter, I'd just like to say "Thanks!" to everyone who reviewed. :) You rock! Oh, and I'm going to do a bit of advertising here: I got Demi Lovato's new CD, and it's awesome. :D

This chapter is dedicated to my Granddaddy and my late Grandma. They were the cutest elderly couple _ever_. :3 I talked to my Granddaddy on the phone the other day, and he started talking to me about how lonely he was in that big house of his. I nearly cried. D: But then he made some joke, and everything was alright. But you'll see how exactly this chapter relates to our conversation soon... *winkity, wink* A/N

Jessie sat on the floor of the stable, munching on a shiny red apple rather loudly. After sitting in the hay for a while, a few pieces had found themselves inside her jeans, making her legs itch. Her braid was a bit loose, and her hat lay on the ground next to her. The cowgirl felt odd not having her beloved horse standing next to her; she had opened the gate and let him roam the fields for a while.

After about a minute had passed, Jessie finished her apple and tossed it on the ground. She knew that Bullseye enjoyed nibbling at the core, getting those last few juicy bits out of the fruit. Looking outside, Jessie noticed Bullseye was still runing just as fast as he had when she had first let him out. _Might as well let him continue, _she thought, _It's not like he gets to do this very often. _

Jessie stood up and brushed the stray pieces of hay off her clothes. She bent down, picked up her hat, and twirled it around in her hands as she went to go watch Bullseye. The cowgirl began laughing as she watched her horse.

He ran around with his head somewhat sideways. His tongue was sticking out just a bit, and it lolled back and forth as he ran. Sticky, wet pieces of grass and dandelions were scattered on his legs. That was definitely the type of life to have- care free.

As Jessie leaned against the bench, a dark figure appeared behind her. (Of course, Jessie didn't notice this, because her attention was so focused on her beloved horse.) The mysterious person had a small tissue folded neatly in his hand, and he poured some sort of liquid on it. He quickly pressed the delicate cloth against her nose and mouth, and soon, everything went black for Jessie.

~()~

Woody spun around in his chair, turning towards the window and sighing. Although it didn't surprise him, it had been a rather _dull _day so far. No pleas for help or criminals to catch. And even though this was a sign that he was doing a good job, it bugged him to no end.

But that was only one of his pet peeves. There were lots of things the sheriff couldn't stand. Things such as coffee without sugar, a hug without a smile, and most definitely criminals. (That was, after all, why he became a sheriff.) But not only did he despise criminals in general, he especially hated those thugs who would hold others hostage.

"Hey, sheriff!" Woody spun around at the sound of his name. At the door stood the prospector, his face covered with patches of black dust. In the elderly man's arms was a small rabbit, which was also covered in dust.

"Have you seen Jessie today? I didn't see her with Bullseye, which came as a surprise."

"No, I haven't."

"Well come and help me find her then!" the Prospector said rather loudly, and with a wave of his hands. At this, Woody quickly stood up and followed Pete out the door.

Woody suggested looking in the stores, saying that his cowgirl friend might have went to go buy some apples. But to no avail, when they looked, the cowgirl was still no where to be found.

"What do you think happened to her?" the Prospector asked as he fumbled his hands together anxiously.

"Nothing _happened _to her," Woody said sternly, "she's somewhere around here; she wouldn't have simply wandered off."

The two continued to walk through the streets, and popping their heads through doors. Everyone seemed to realize the tension and seriousness of the situation, so they began looking too. The small search party continued to call out her name throughout the mid-morning and into the early afternoon.

Eventually, (this process didn't take very long, for the town was quite small), they had run out of places to look. Jessie was definitely not in town. Woody said they should look around the stable and field one more time, and they did exactly that.

As Woody passed through the stable quickly, he noticed the apple that lay on the ground. Although he kept his composure for the sake of the others, he felt like freaking out. It was completely evident that Jessie had been around that day, which made finding her even the more difficult. It was like when a person died, and their favorite book was on the kitchen table, or a meal they had cooked was still in the fridge. It was as though they were halfway there, but truly gone. And you keep believing they were still alive, because it hurt too much to consider just for a moment that they were actually gone.

And suddenly, Woody's heart felt empty. He wished he would've taken more time to tell Jessie how much her being his _best _friend actually meant to him. He wished he would've taken some more time to simply look at her and store a mental picture in his brain for times like these. Maybe he should have remembered her laugh or the funny way she pronounced certain words.

Woody quickly pushed the thought aside. There was no need for him to get nostalgic at this point; Jessie _could _be in the field.

By now, even Bullseye knew something was wrong. No longer was he running, but walking around slowly. Woody walked up to the horse and patted him on the head in an understanding manner. The sheriff scanned the horizon, hoping that Jessie would magically appear on top of a hill far away.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop in the distance. It wasn't one of those pops that emit from fireworks, or a pop that comes from opening a bottle of soda, but one of those silence-enducing pops. A dangerous pop. The pop that a gun made when fired.

Woody immediately followed the sound of the gun, which had sounded as though it had come from the forest. A smart person would've entered the wooded area with caution. And although Woody was a typically bright light bulb, at this moment, he was running blindly. All he could hear was the thumping of his heart and feet, and all he could think about was what he would do if Jessie had been shot.

He came into a clearing, where he saw a deer laying in the middle with a small puddle of blood forming around it. Woody sighed out of relief, though he did feel a bit sorry for the wounded animal. The sheriff scanned the area, and froze when he saw a bright red shape. An object that he had seen every day for as long as he could remember.

Off to the side of the clearing lay Jessie's discarded hat. Woody picked it up, and traced his finger along the rim in random patterns.

~()~

Jessie awoke slowly, her head still a little fuzzy. Her eyelids drooped for a few minutes as she entered back into consciousness. Suddenly, a bright light shone directly in front of her face. Jessie groaned and squinted.

"Hello, sleeping beauty." a man's voice said from beside the lamp. Jessie glanced over at him.

"Hello."

"You're awake, I see."

"Yes, genius. And you're ugly. Did anyone ever tell you that?" Jessie's voice cracked with thirst. How long had she been asleep, exactly?

A/N Don't worry! I wouldn't kill Jessie! But...Ew, it's short. I felt like I needed to end it there. At first I figured that this plot would run for one or two chapters, but it may end up being more than that. (More like three to five.) Although I have a few ideas lined up, I will always take any suggestions. If there's anything you'd like to see in this story, by all means, please tell me. Oh, and I hope you Doctor Who fans caught my probably-not-evident 'montage to Amy' there. ;D I think Jessie and Amy are alike in many ways. A/N


	5. Make Your Mark

A/N I'm so excited to continue the story. :D I'm slowly but surely getting into my 'creative flow" for this story. A big thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I'm going to start PM-ing you reviewers, by the way. (You probably already figured that out.) I hope you enjoy this chapter! A/N

Woody hammered in one last nail, ensuring that the poster would stay on through any windy storm. He stepped back a bit to observe his work, and when he took a good look at the poster, he sniffled.

The poster was rather simple, and printed on the plainest of stationary. On it was a picture of Jessie, and a few words describing her unknown whereabouts. Woody's eyebrows furrowed in frustration, as the poster didn't even show Jessie's hair, only her face. If anyone _were _to indeed find Jessie, they would probably not be able to see that it was the same girl on the poster. The sheriff thought the poster did not do his friend justice.

The posters had been printed by an elderly woman who printed the town's newspaper. Even though Woody knew she was only trying to be neighborly and help, the posters wouldn't do any good. It wasn't as though Jessie was a lost pet; she was much more than that.

Woody trudged back down the street, and hopped on top of Bullseye. The horse gave a little snort, as if he was sniffling, too. Bullseye was a lot like a person- he showed emotion, was loving, and could feel everything any regular person could feel. Woody reckoned that was why Jessie loved the horse so much.

And again, the thought of the cowgirl made him sigh. It had only been about a day since she had been lost, but it had felt a lot longer than this. Woody couldn't remember a period of time that they had been apart as long as this one. But it wasn't simply lonliness that filled Woody; it was worry. He was worried Jessie was in danger, and that she was lonely too. And although the cowgirl seemed as tough as nails on the outside, Woody worried that she was frightened and cold. And most of all, even though the sheriff continually pushed the thought away, he was worried that his friend might be laying dead somewhere.

Bullseye galloped down the road, stirring up dust. Woody rose the collar of his shirt a bit higher, as to shield his nose and mouth from the dirt that was swirling around him. They had finally completed their task of putting all the posters up in town. This was another reason why Woody didn't really see the point in the posters; everyone in town already knew about Jessie being missing.

Woody rode Bullseye back into the stable. The sheriff really did hate the thought of leaving the horse alone for a while, but it wasn't as though he could take Bullseye into the police office with him.

As Bullseye walked along, he accidentally kicked the apple core that Jessie had left behind the day before. It slid against the straw, and landed in front of Woody's feet. Frowning, Woody picked it up and scrutinized the skeleton of the fruit.

If there were enough clues left behind, could he find Jessie?

~()~

Her stomach grumbled for the fifth time in twelve minutes. Jessie knew this because she had counted, and because she had been watching the minutes tick away for the entire time that she had been conscious. Every moment passed with a pang of hunger or a wave of pain from the headache that had just formed.

The only thing that reassured Jessie was the thought that every moment filled with boredom was another moment that Woody would surely be closer to finding her.

She had no doubt that he would show up soon. This unspoken trust between the two had formed nearly a lifetime ago, and it would stay in tact until a lifetime had ended. It was something that Jessie completely believed with all her heart- Woody would always come to her rescue, especially if she happened to be in danger. And Woody being the sheriff simply added to the list of reasons to keep believing.

Her captor strode into the room for the second time that morning. Jessie rolled her eyes, as she wasn't the slightest bit delighted to see the man who reeked of moldy socks. He asked her a few questions, all of which Jessie did not answer. Sure, the silent treatment was the oldest trick in the book while being held captive, but the cowgirl found it worked rather well. Eventually the man gave up, calling Jessie a name under his breath as he closed the door to her dark cell rather loudly.

Her "cell" was more like a room rather than the place a convict would stay. With sunshine pouring through two small windows, the brick walls being warmed by said sunlight, and the chirping of birds outside made Jessie's current position rather cozy.

And although the room she was currently in was definitely not the worst she had ever seen, there was no means of escape for her. The room contained nothing except for her body and the chair she currently sat in. The dirt floor was completely barren, and seemed to mock her every time a breeze came through and stirred some of the dust around.

Then, of course, there was the current predicament her hands, feet, and legs were in. Jessie's hands were being cut by a dirty old rope, as were her feet, both of these being tied to a wooden chair. Her legs were cramping and sore from the amount of time she had spent sitting.

And worst of all, her hat was long gone. When the cowgirl had found out the fate of her beloved piece of head wear, she was feeling a mixture of hatred and sorrow. Hatred obviously towards her captor, and sorrow towards her lost and lonely hat. Now with her hair constantly falling in front of her eyes, and ears a bit cold, Jessie desperately missed her hat.

So there she sat, all alone, somewhere she never expected to be, and wondered when exactly her next meal would be.

~()~

Woody scribbled a few more clues down on his piece of paper as he listened to the Prospector think aloud. Truly the words on the paper were merely assumptions, imagination, and hopes. But to Woody, his own hand moving across a sheet of paper felt like he was creating the pathway to wherever Jessie happened to be.

"Why don't we look for footprints?" Woody suggested when the Prospector hadn't spoken for a moment. Pete raised his eyebrows, having not even considered this possibility. After the Prospector nodded his head in approval, Woody began squinting at the ground in search of any sign of an indentation in the ground. The sheriff desperately hoped the wind hadn't blown away any clues by now.

Woody grinned like a kid who had just been given candy as he spotted a large footprint in the dirt. In fact, Woody had just been given a type of "candy"; it was a sweet treat called hope. He and the Prospector continued making their way slowly, and eventually came into the same clearing in the forest that they had been to earlier. The footprints continued to weave throughout the forest, until they reached the outskirts of the large oaks. From here they continued on east, right towards the train tracks.

"I need a list of all the trains that have passed through here in the past twenty-four hours, where they came from, and where they were headed to." Woody told Pete. "Please", he added.

"Sure thing," the Prospector said with a nod, "Do you think that's where the captors went? On a train?"

"I'm sure. Positive." Woody said quickly. He had to believe in his instincts, for if he didn't, there were no more leads; no more solutions.

A/N Ew, this one is short, too. I hate it when you have a plot formed in your head, and it ends up a lot shorter than you originally anticipated. Oh, well. A/N


	6. Around We Go

A/N Definitely the last chapter of this plot. It's time to move on to something else in my opinion. As always, I'll take any suggestions as to what should be in this story. A/N

Jessie shifted in her light slumber, and after a moment she awoke. The early morning sunshine seeped through the tiny windows, creating a lace-like pattern as the light twisted and turned on the old wooden floor. Jessie opened her eyes and squinted as she became adjusted to the light. She wiped her eyes groggily, yawned, and began rubbing the back of her neck.

Jessie felt her decision to fall asleep sitting _up _in the chair was a rather stupid idea. But then she remembered that she didn't have a choice in her current predicament.

The cowgirl was a bit of a control freak. If things weren't going right and the cowgirl had the ability to change a few things, she most certainly would. That was the worst part of her situation- she had _no _control whatsoever.

Then, the tiny _tweet _of a bird could be heard from outside the window. Jessie rolled her eyes. That bird had been chirping all throughout the night, leaving her with troubled sleep. Jessie gritted her teeth just thinking about another night like the previous.

But then the cowgirl realized that perhaps she wouldn't have to wait through another night. She was positive Woody was working his hardest to find her, and by now, she suspected he would be rather close.

"Morning, sunshine." her captor said with a smile as he burst through the door. Smiles were supposed to be happy, Jessie thought, but his was just plain creepy.

Jessie nodded her head slightly in reply.

"Do you figure your dear sheriff will come rescue you today?"

Jessie raised her eyebrows. This dimwit knew Woody? Then surely he knew what was coming for him, right?

Her captor gave Jessie a spine-chilling wink and scurried out of the door. That guy irked her.

The day continued rather quietly_; _Jessie's captor made no more visits at all, and by mid-morning that horrid bird had stopped singing his song. Jessie sat patiently throughout the long minutes, occasionally humming a tune of her own.

~()~

"That's it, that's the only one left!" Woody yelled triumphantly, and circled the name of the town with emphasis. After a bit of logical elimination and some digging, the sheriff and the Prospector had discovered the only place Jessie could be. This was a small town called Tater Hill, notorious for housing run-away thugs.

Woody got out of his chair, and went about his office to get ready. He kept the sheet of town names folded and held safely inside his front pocket. The sheriff also checked his gun to see if it was loaded, and being satisfied with its current state, put it in his holster.

The Prospector stared wonderingly as Woody put the pistol in its holster. Pete knew, as did everyone else in town, that Woody would never shoot a living soul. Sure, if a gun was pointed to your head, you would probably do anything. But if Jessie's captors knew Woody, and knew him well enough to know he would never shoot, then perhaps the sheriff would be in a bit of trouble when going to rescue Jessie.

Woody strode outside and hopped on top of Bullseye, as the horse had been waiting patiently to leave. Bullseye neighed softly, as if saying, "I'm ready!" Most of the townspeople had gathered outside, waiting for news about where Woody was headed to. Some let out small whoops of cheer as Woody galloped down the road and into the horizon.

Pete took off his hat and waved it towards Woody in farewell. The Prospector wished he could have gone with Woody, but an old man like himself had no business going on dangerous rescue missions.

Woody kept riding, the morning breeze grazing on his cheeks and making them a bit numb. He was thankfully for the short drizzle that had fallen upon the town during the night, for now his path was not as dusty.

Tater Hill wasn't too far; only a dozen miles at the most. Woody figured it would take about an hour to travel to the town, making mid-morning his estimated arrival time. There wasn't much to do in this two hours, other than enjoy the scenic route. He rode, the _clip clops _of Bullseye's footsteps ringing in his eardrums and sending him in a trance. Following the worn dirt that had never been a _real _path.

That's what life really was; just a worn road that was never direct. Many people following in other's footsteps; go to school, grow up, get a job, get married, have kids, die peacefully, though no one ever told you how to do these things "right". It was the same wheel turning over and over again, it was what society _expected_, rolling until it hopefully might be broken by someone who decided to change their life for the better.

The minutes tumbled away like the fallen autumn leaves in the wind. Eventually, Woody came to a small sign. This sign was infested with age and neglect, and the sheriff could barely make out the words "Tater Hill" painted in faded red. There was no mention of population on the sign, but this was because the population had been so little in the town's prime that there was no need in putting the number.

Woody hopped off of Bullseye and tied him tightly to the old sign. He hated to leave the horse here alone out in the open, but Woody also hated to bring the horse with him in fear of Bullseye being taken. So Woody gave Bullseye a reassuring smile and pat on the head, then took the first few strides into the dilapidated town.

The sheriff realized that these first few steps could be seen as throwing his own life away. This was dangerous, as was any other duty of a sheriff. But this time the task was truly _dangerous_. And having to rescue his best friend only added to the mound of pressure building in Woody's conscious. If he made one wrong move, he or Jessie could be dead.

With this in mind, Woody stepped a little quieter, and perked his ears. Any rustle of the grass or leaves in the trees, any creak of wood, and any sign of struggle Woody would most certainly sense. He continued down the one and only street of Tater Hill, passing the old general store, the printing office, and the tavern, all of which depressingly showed no sign of the cowgirl or her captors. Just as he was beginning to feel hopeless, Woody spotted Tater Hill's sheriff office at the very end of the street.

He began to make his way towards it, digging for his courage. The courage to break the door down, rescue Jessie quickly, hop on Bullseye, and ride off into the sunset. That would be the ideal outcome; that would be the fairy tale ending. As Woody stepped onto the creaky threshold of the building, he knew that what you wanted to happen usually didn't.

The sheriff's office was almost like a haunted house. Cobwebs lined the windows and corners, dust covered furniture like snow, and you were simply waiting for a bat to give you a fright. The appearance of the building alone made you absolutely positive that something bad was destined to happen.

The scuttle of what Woody hoped was a rat was heard in front of him. Taking large strides, but remaining nearly silent, Woody continued from the sheriff's office itself into the back of the building where the cells were. He realized that the office portion was bigger than his entire building all together, which Woody found rather ironic. Nonetheless, he began creeping down the hallway that led to the cells. From what Woody could see, there were four; two doors on each side of the hallway.

Woody winced as the floor groaned underneath his weight. He wondered if he really should have had that extra piece of pie as he made his way noisily down the hallway. Some rescue mission this would turn out to be; Woody getting caught in the midst of trying to find Jessie.

He wondered which door to take first. He _could _stand outside each door for a moment, listen, and then decide. But at a time like this, every second counted. Shrugging, (and even though he appeared to shrug out of not caring, he was actually "shrugging" off the fear), Woody creaked open the first door on the right. His shoulders slumped when he found the cell to be completely empty, except for a rat. He had the same results for the next two cells he looked into, and Woody could feel his heart skip a beat as he turned to face the final door.

It was exactly like when you read the last sentence of a mystery, and it contains the name of the culprit. You feel excited, because you now know who it was, but you also feel a bit depressed because you wanted the mystery to continue as you read the story. As Woody stood in front of the door, he realized it only made it worse that he _knew _Jessie was in there, and probably her captor as well. He knew the dangers that lay just beyond a thin plank of wood.

He had to do it eventually, Woody decided. Saving Jessie was far more important than avoiding his fears. Woody pulled his gun out, and ignored his shaking hands. The sheriff laid one carefully placed hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath, and burst into the final cell.

His breath was blown out of him by the sight he witnessed. It was simply Jessie tied up (quite literally); Woody saw cases like these somewhat frequently. But now Woody knew how it felt to have somebody you cared about in danger and helpless.

This only lasted for a moment, for then Woody saw Jessie's captor. The slender man gave Woody the chills, just as the man did Jessie. The man gave the room a sort of air, as though anyone who walked in would know that this guy was bad stuff. Woody knew only the heavily practiced could produce that.

"You've got a gun in your hand," the captor began to say, "Do you plan on using it?" Woody seemed to ignore the question as he inched towards Jessie. Once he arrived at the battered chair she sat on, he began working at the ropes that bound her.

If Jessie was the type of person, she would've cursed in her thoughts. She was angry at her captor for taunting the sheriff, but she was most angry at how he held some of the most important information.

Finally, Woody untied the last knots in the rope. Jessie's captor had simply leaned against the wall, taking in the sights before him.

Suddenly, Woody did something unexpected. (Jessie nearly gaped in awe.) He strode over to the man in a few large steps, and pointed his gun at the man's head. This time, his hand didn't move a muscle. The man was now sitting against the wall. Woody squatted down to his level.

"I could not ever do it." Woody whispered in the man's ear, quiet enough so Jessie couldn't hear. Woody then grabbed Jessie by the hand, and they ran out of the sheriff office.

The man continued to sit on the cell floor, a bit dazed.

_For a little man it takes nothing, but for a good man it takes everything, _Jessie thought.

A/N We can assume that they got away safely. ^_^ I hope you enjoyed this chapter! A/N


	7. Gobble

A/N Hey everyone! Happy Turkey Day to all my fellow Americans! (Uhm, late.) I know you really hate me right now, since I haven't updated in a while. But I have many excuses which I will not go into detail about in order to save time. Everything is well now, and I'm back! :D

I got two _amazing _ideas (you two know who you are ;D), and I promise that I have not forgotten about them! That chapter should be up soon. :) A/N

Woody sat at his desk, yet again having nothing to do. He sighed as he stared out the window. Although the sun shone very brightly, the cold winter months were in full-force by now. There was no snow on the ground yet, but that would surely come in a few weeks, if not sooner. At that moment, there were patches of fallen leaves here and there that looked like deep red puddles. Some trees still held a few leaves, looking halfway naked.

The sheriff checked his mental to-do list. He had picked apples with Jessie earlier that morning, helped clean up some leaves that had blown into the road the previous night, and made a pumpkin pie with Jessie. (Jessie had been quite bored today.) There wasn't much else to do, except figure out what he needed to do to help with the town's Thanksgiving feast.

Since this was the best option he could think of, Woody stepped outside and shivered. Despite the elderly women's protests, Woody always chose to go without a coat in the winter. He walked over to the general store. The owner had always been in charge of the Thanksgiving feast because he had everything needed for the feast in his store.

The general store was filled with bright red, yellow, orange, and even a few green packages for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Cinnamon sticks filled the entire store with a heavenly scent. Wreaths decorated the walls, available for purchase. Pumpkins were displayed at the very front, along with any other Thanksgiving feast necessities.

Woody walked up to the counter and rang the bell. The store owner came running from a room in the back, in all of his glory.

"What can I help you with, sheriff?" he asked in a short gasp. Woody assumed it had been a busy day.

"What do you want me to help with for the Thanksgiving feast this year?" Woody asked. The store owner sighed internally. Woody could see this, because he could read people easily. (He was a sheriff, after all.) The busy man racked his brain quickly, thinking of what others had already signed up for. Then he gasped.

"The turkey!" he exclaimed. Everyone in the store glanced his way at his outburst.

"You don't have a turkey yet?" Woody asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Usually that was the first thing people worried about.

"No," he sighed, "Can you do that?" Woody nodded, bid the man a polite farewell, and walked out into the cold street.

Typically one would think only one turkey could not feed a whole town, even a town with such a low population. One thing about the forest surrounding town was that it contained some queer things that you would not expect. An example of this would be the wild turkeys that loafed around in the autumn. These were abnormally large turkeys, and rarely would the entire town eat the whole turkey during the Thanksgiving feast alone.

Woody walked back to the sheriff's office, unlocked his cabinet, and looked inside. He couldn't use his hand gun to kill the turkey; this was the one he kept at his side at all times; it was like a child to him. He decided he would have to use his rifle instead.

The sheriff continued to rummage through his things, and groaned when he could not find any ammo for the gun. It was already early afternoon, so if he wanted the turkey in time for Thanksgiving feast, he would have to start hunting fairly soon.

"Woody, take a look at this rabbit I just caught!" Jessie burst through the doors. Woody spun around, and sure enough, in her arms was a small fuzzy rabbit.

"Adorable." He mumbled, going back to his cabinet.

"What're you looking for?" she asked quickly, trying to control the extremely squirmy rabbit.

"Bullets." Woody said quickly, grimacing as he bumped his head on a shelf.

"What for? Ooh, is there going to be a wild chase on horseback?" Jessie jumped up and down slightly like a giddy schoolgirl. The only difference between Jessie and a schoolgirl was the age difference- and that wasn't much.

"Thanksgiving is tomorrow, if you've forgotten. I'm going hunting." Woody felt slightly guilty deep inside for speaking to Jessie in such a manner, but the top layers of his mind were focused on finding what he needed.

"Why do we always have to have a turkey for Thanksgiving? It's not what the pilgrims had, so why do we eat it?" Jessie exploded. Woody jumped up at the raise of her voice, knocking his head on a shelf yet again. When he looked at her, he noticed the rabbit was gone.

"It's just a tradition; no one knows exactly why. Maybe one year they couldn't find whatever they usually had, and so they decided to have turkey instead. And when did you become the expert on Thanksgiving?"

"I do my research," Jessie replied with a slightly smug look on her face, "I do it in order to try and save the poor turkey every year. But no matter how hard I try, there always ends up being a big turkey lying on a platter. Not this year, though."

In one swift motion Jessie tied Woody's hands tightly together, threw him down on his chair, and tied his feet to the chair. Woody sat gaping for a moment, which then turned into slight anger.

"What do you think you're doing? If I don't leave now, there won't be a turkey for tomorrow." the sheriff growled. He now regretted teaching Jessie how to tie knots.

"Well that means I finally saved the turkey!" Jessie threw a fist in the air triumphantly. "You don't know how happy the forest animals will be tomorrow. This time of year is always pretty horrible for them."

"Well congratulations. I would clap, but seeing as my hands are _tied _at the moment…" Woody trailed off.

"I'm not letting you go," Jessie said matter-of-factly, "Then you would simply run off and kill the turkey. Nope, you're staying here until tomorrow morning."

"_Tomorrow morning?_" Woody exclaimed loudly. "How do you expect me to use the bathroom, or eat, or sleep?"

"You probably won't do two of those three things. I'll get you some food though." Jessie smiled at him.

"Did you know that kidnapping is an offense, and I could arrest you for it?"

"You won't though."

"Just you watch me. As soon as dawn breaks-"

"But you won't," Jessie cut him off, "Will you? You couldn't ever arrest me on purpose. Stop trying to act so manly."

Woody rolled his eyes. He wasn't trying to act _manly_. He was trying to be set free. The sheriff sighed as he realized there was only one last thing to do.

"Jess, please." Woody spoke a little quieter. "You know how much Thanksgiving means to everyone. You can't ruin it for everybody just to save one turkey." Although he was trying to convince Jessie, what Woody was saying truly came from the heart.

"Well you can't kill one turkey and set off the balance of nature just for a meal." she mumbled.

Woody sighed. Just having Jessie mad at him would set off the balance of nature. But he knew that her bark was louder than her bite in a situation like this, and she most certainly wasn't impossible to crack.

"Jessie." the sheriff drug out her name. She glanced at him, only to meet a strong but sad gaze.

"Sherriff!" Woody jumped at the sound of his name in the distance. His name continued being called, until the Prospector came running in, panting. At his side was a rifle.

"I have some good news, and some slightly bad news." Pete said quickly.

"What news?" Jessie and Woody asked in unison.

"The slightly bad news is that I borrowed your ammo, sheriff. I meant to bring it back, but I ended up usin' all of it. The _good _news is that I used all that ammo to get the Thanksgiving turkey! I just need your help carrying it over to the store."

Woody watched Jessie's face fall. She walked over to him slowly and undid the roped that had been binding him.

"Why was he tied up?" Pete asked suddenly. After a moment of thinking, the Prospector decided he didn't want to know. Neither Jessie nor Woody answered anyways.

Woody left with the Prospector, deciding he would talk to Jessie later. After the bird was taken to the shop and admired by everyone, Woody returned to the sheriff's office.

He half-didn't expect Jessie to be there. Of course, he couldn't blame her. If he was as passionate as she was about saving animals, he would feel a bit depressed at a moment like this. Woody felt guilty, but at the same time excited for the obviously delicious feast that would happen the next day.

When he walked through the door, he found Jessie sitting at his desk. After a closer look, he found her eyes puffy and red.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, crouching down so they could be at the same level.

"Isn't your fault," Jessie sniffed, "It's the same thing every year. But you'd think every once and a while people would stop and think about what they do and how it can hurt the tiniest thing."

"Well if we all did that, then we wouldn't do anything because we were thinking so long. Then we _still _wouldn't do anything, because pretty much anything anybody could ever do has a negative effect on someone _somewhere_. Everyone would be sitting still forever. Then the human race would come to an end because…"

"What?" Jessie scrunched her nose, confused.

They both laughed slightly.

A/N The awkward moment when your best friend of the opposite sex says something linked to reproduction. I feel bad because there was a lot of dialogue in this chapter. I tried to use as little as possible. :s I hope you Americans had a wonderful Turkey Day! Expect more updates soon. :D A/N


	8. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

_A/N This chapter will feature FanFicAddict02's idea. :D I know I told some of you that the next chapter would combine two ideas that I received, but...I lied. :S I realized after being almost finished that it didn't flow very well and was very rushed because I was trying to cram so much in one chapter. After re-writing the chapter many, many times, I finally just cleared my head, came up with a new plot, and went with it. A/N_

They both held their guns with steady hands and anxious sweat wetting their palms. Two targets, (one for each), looked as though they were miles away, but in reality had been placed only a short distance away. The murmurs through the crowd stopped suddenly as the two prepared for battle.

He dare not blink, despite of the grime and dirt that polluted his vision and burned his eyes. He felt his clammy hand slipping and shifted it with a jerky motion. This was the moment when his confidence melted away. This was anybody's to take.

Her toes quivered nervously inside her boots. She dug her heels into the dirt, which was quite mushy from a recent snowfall. It made a soft _squish _just as she blew a strand of fiery red hair from her eyes. This was the moment when her confidence melted away. This was anybody's to take.

_Much earlier..._

Jessie sighed as she dug her numb hands into her coat pockets. It was a new coat; a light brown leather coat that cut off slightly above her waist. She didn't enjoy wearing coats for many reasons. (A) They were most often made out of animal hides, which was obviously against her morals, and (B) She despised being seen as one who was not the toughest. If you were to ask the cowgirl, her list of reasons would go on and on for a long while.

Woody walked alongside her, just as cold but not wearing a coat or jacket. (This only added to Jessie's list of current frustrations.) He had been talking about the most recent laws that had just been passed. He knew this topic was not extremely interesting to his friend, so at first he wasn't surprised when Jessie didn't respond. But after a few moments of utterly awkward silence, he began to worry.

Their feet padded on the ground in harmony, making the sound that was so unique to snow. It was a squishy yet dry sound that made young children excited during days off of school. Since they were walking in the forest, trees made a tunnel over their heads, each covered with a thick layer of the fluffy white stuff. A few ice sickles hung on bony brown fingers.

Despite this natural beauty, the forest was somewhat desolate. All the animals were stowed away underground, dozing off to the silence of winter. A single cardinal blazed like a fire as it shot above their heads. A pop of color like this would show up every now and then, but the extremely harsh winter had definitely affected everything.

"Winter is so..._boring_." Jessie said with a frown upon her face that proved her distaste in the season.

"What do you mean? There's a bunch of holidays, snow, and hot chocolate. What's not to like?"

"I'm afraid that Bullseye is lonely. All he ever does is sleep and eat nowadays." She grumbled. "All of his friends are sleeping!"

"I'm sure he's fine," Woody began. He bent down to pick up a small piece of paper that was skipping along the ground with the winter breeze. Before he could continue, an icy shock hit his neck. Woody brushed the ball of snow off his neck.

"What was that for?" the sheriff cried.

"Have you not _seen _how weird he's been lately? I thought you were different!" Jessie said quite loudly as hot tears filled her eyes. She walked away, escaping the tension that had suddenly arisen. Woody could almost feel Jessie's forceful footsteps shake the ground as he stood up slowly.

He almost called out her name, but decided otherwise. Her explosion somewhat startled him, but Woody was pretty sure he had women figured out- if they got mad, it was usually just hormones. As he started walking down the icy path again, he figured Jessie would come crawling back the next morning. And after a few minutes had passed, the sheriff was positive that was what would happen.

~()~

Jessie was laying on a soft pink sheet, her skinny limbs tangled in a strange position. She had positioned herself so that she could see the stars peeking out through a tiny window on the roof of the barn. Every once in a while she would glance at her beloved horse, who was covered with hay in the corner.

She sat up suddenly and brought her knees to her chest. There was something obviously wrong with Bullseye; how could Woodyhave been so clueless? The entire day had been dedicated to asking this question.

Jessie was true to her word; she _did _think Woody was different from everyone else. He had than unique connection with animals, and had always been so caring towards them. Jessie knew the sheriff had seen Bullseye every single day. Was he really like every other man? Clueless, naive, and sometimes just plain _stupid_? At the moment, Jessie was convinced. But perhaps _very _deep down, she knew sometimes people said things they didn't really mean.

Bullseye shifted in his sleep, shaking Jessie out of her deep thought. She went to his pen and leaned against the creaky wooden railing. She smiled slightly and stared at him for a moment. Some people may call her crazy for it, but Jessie truly loved Bullseye. And if it was ethical during the time, she might even marry him. There was such a strong bond that had been built so long ago that it was extremely hard to break.

And Jessie was worried a sudden case of the blues had done it.

~()~

Woody sunk into his old, brown plush chair. Tonight his infamous chair had been deemed "the thinking chair" by the sheriff. He listened to the crackling of the fire going as he tried to figure things out. Woody sighed and closed his eyes.

Why were women so darn _complicated? _For as long as Woody could remember, they confused men. Even his own father had told him once to steer clear of a hormonal lady. Woody wondered if there was a way to see a hormonal day for a woman, so he could prevent _this _from happening.

It was a terrible feeling, one that made his stomach turn and mind dizzy. On one hand, he really wanted to apologize. But on the other hand, he hadn't a clue what he had done wrong.

Jessie had been his best friend as long as he could remember. He had had many "pals" over the years, but none of them could ever amount to the cowgirl. Woody could remember all of the fights they had had, for he could count all of them on one hand. They always made up in the end, and this was the only way the sheriff knew how to judge true friendship. That was all he had ever known.

When Woody had first heard about the birds and the bees, he was too curious for his own good. He had plain out asked Jessie if she had gotten her "thing" yet. And she had only laughed and winked.

That was the Jessie Woody knew. The girl with the fiery personality that matched her bright red hair. The one with the life-loving, daredevil personality. Who was the Jessie he had seen today?

"Women." Woody sighed.

~()~

"There's something wrong with him," Woody pleaded to the vet, "You have to come see him." The stubby doctor rushed down the street, huffing.

"I'm sorry sheriff, but there's more important things I have to do than treat a horse that's just a little down in the dumps!" he exclaimed, patting his bald head with a dirty rag from his pocket.

"You don't understand; he's more than just a little sad," he continued to plead, then said in a hushed whisper, "And Jessie's all worked up about it."

The man sighed and nodded his head. There were two lines the townspeople knew never to cross- the sheriff's and Jessie's. If one wrong button was pushed, then it was possible for the entire town to explode. The pair seemed to hold everything together rather nicely.

"I'll try to make it over there soon." he decided after a moment. The man nodded, and then was off to his next appointment. The sheriff grinned in victory.

Woody walked down the street, breathing in the winter air. After a snowfall the air wasn't as bitter as winter air usually would be; it had almost a sweetness to it that made anyone crack a slight smile.

His stride faltered a bit when he spotted Jessie on the other side of the street. Woody considered hiding behind a tree or building, but eventually decided otherwise. Now the only thing to consider was whether or not to go over there. If he _did, _then there was always a risk of getting slapped. But if he _didn't_, there _still _was a risk of getting slapped later on. _Might as well get it over __with_, he thought.

Surprisingly, Jessie didn't even stop walking. She didn't glance at him, or greet the sheriff.

"Hey," Woody mumbled, intentionally bumping her elbow slightly, "How was your day?" He asked this in a sing-song voice. When she didn't reply, he tried again. "I convinced the vet to come see Bullseye later."

Woody shifted his head a little, trying to see her reaction. He could tell she was trying her very hardest not to smile; there was a slight shimmer to her eyes. Just this made his heart sing.

"You're not off the hook yet," Jessie mumbled. Woody's shoulders sagged a bit. "Should we settle this the usual way?"

He grinned mischievously. "You bet. Friday, 3:00?"

"I'll be there."

~()~

They both held their guns with steady hands and anxious sweat wetting their palms. Two targets, (one for each), looked as though they were miles away, but in reality had been placed only a short distance away. The murmurs through the crowd stopped suddenly as the two prepared for battle.

He dare not blink, despite of the grime and dirt that polluted his vision and burned his eyes. He felt his clammy hand slipping and shifted it with a jerky motion. This was the moment when his confidence melted away. This was anybody's to take.

Her toes quivered nervously inside her boots. She dug her heels into the dirt, which was quite mushy from a recent snowfall. It made a soft _squish _just as she blew a strand of fiery red hair from her eyes. This was the moment when her confidence melted away. This was anybody's to take.

_Bam_.

The shot rang through the town. In unison, Jessie and Woody walked up towards their targets. Jessie threw a fist in the air.

Sweet victory.

_A/N Did that make sense? I just thought it would be cute if a shooting contest is the way Jessie and Woody put arguments to rest. I thought giving both of their mindsets would be a good idea because I didn't want to come off as hating all men. (And some more length is always a bonus, right?) And of course I had to let Jessie win!_

_If you like sly advertisements, go ahead and read this: You can visit my blog by clicking on the link located on my profile. I don't really have a "niche"; most of the stuff I post is quite ramble-y. But check it out if you'd like! A/N_


	9. Pay Up

_A/N Hello my little cowboys and cowgirls! ;D In her review, Evelyn Knight made a very valid point as well as giving a splendid idea for this chapter! I hope you enjoy! **Watch the Kony 2012 video! (The link is on my** **profile.) Share it on Facebook, Twitter, etc.!**A/N_

Jessie scooped up another handful of sunflower seeds. Before shoving them all into her mouth she said, "Thanks for staying up with me tonight."

"No problem," Woody said with a smile, "It's the least I could do." Jessie rolled her eyes at this remark; she knew he was only trying to make up for the other day. But it's the thought that counts, right?

They sat in the corner of the barn on large lumps of hay. They had two large quilts; one for sitting on and one for covering their shivering bodies with. Their tiny space had a soft orange glow produced by a dripping candle. In between them sat a bowl full of sunflower seeds.

The snack confused Jessie quite a lot. How could you _eat _seeds? You were practically eating a flower as you noshed on the crunchy teardrops. As she flipped one over in her hand, she wondered if it would grow if she planted it outside. Jessie tossed the seed in the air, catching it with her mouth. They were quite strange, but extremely tasty.

Bullseye neighed softly in his slumber from the opposite side of the room, pulling Jessie out of her thoughts. She smiled at her faithful companion.

"I'm glad he's okay." she whispered.

"The doctor seemed to think so," Woody replied, "But you don't, do you?" She looked up at him as he raised an eyebrow.

"This is just a precaution to _ensure _his full recovery. I don't wanna be like your mom that one time." Woody gave her a questioning look, so she continued. "Remember when you got a stomach bug, but she thought you were faking so you wouldn't have to take a test on that Shakespeare play? Then you blew chunks in the middle of the test, all over the classroom." Jessie giggled as his cheeks turned red. "When you claimed to be sick, she never doubted it after that one."

"I took advantage of it too," Woody had a smirk on his face, "And don't say that you never faked the flu."

"That's how I got Bullseye, so I don't understand why it was so frowned upon."

"Hold on, what?" Woody nearly knocked over the candle and sunflower seeds out of surprise. He had never heard this story before...

~()~

A young Jessie crawled out of her bedroom window. It was a windy day; the gusts pushed her fiery strands back against her head and made the sleeves of her cotton shirt ripple. Jessie scooted along the back edge of her house, on the lookout for any nosy neighbors or even worse, her parents. When she decided the coast was clear, she darted into the woods across the road.

She took in the scent of the pines. This was her favorite place to explore. She could always find a new animal to befriend, or a wild flower to pick. Every now and then she would find something "exceptionally rare", and then make a few bucks off of it. (Jessie knew how to convince her friends into buying "extra"-ordinary rocks.)

But today she wasn't in it for the money. Today she was determined to find something so "ridiculous" that not even Woody had agreed to help her search for it. Jessie had heard a strange noise coming from the trees a few weeks ago and ever since then she had come daily to look.

A horse was all she ever wanted. It didn't matter if it was friendly or territorial, beautiful or ugly, big or small – A horse was a horse, and that's all Jessie saw when she would dream of having her very own.

If she were to find it in this forest, it would not only be completely free, but also totally legal. (Which was saying something; Jessie liked to play with the law at times.) She thought that taking the time to ask Woody's father, the sheriff, if taking the horse was okay would convince her parents that she was _most definitely _mature enough to care for it.

Anger bubbled in Jessie's stomach as she was reminded of her parents' outcry to her proposition. It seemed like the only things they knew how to say were "No." and "Not in this lifetime."

Again she took in a deep breath of the fresh air. It calmed her a bit, and eventually her anger diminished. Her boots thudded against the ground in a rhythmic pattern, almost identical to the beating of her young, free heart. She shoved her hands into her pockets and continued walking, pretending she had not a care in the world.

Suddenly she heard a crunch beneath her feet. Jumping off the solid object, Jessie expected it to be a stray tree branch or something of the sort. And indeed it was "something of the sort"; a sleek wooden arrow stood broken in half beneath her. A few feet away lay an entire bag full of the sticks, along with the bow.

_It wouldn't hurt to test it out, would it? _Jessie asked her conscious as she picked up the bow and an arrow. Using her handy pocket knife, she carved a large target into a nearby tree. She held the weapon awkwardly in her tiny hands.

Jessie inhaled deeply as she drew the arrow back, crossing her fingers that she was doing this right. Her eyes squeezed shut. She let go of the arrow as she exhaled.

_Pop, doing._

"You're pretty good, kid." The voice rang through the woods. It sounded quite sinister and very reptile-like.

Jessie gasped and her eyes widened. She slowly turned around until she stood face-to-face to the owner of that very creepy voice.

He was a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing all black. He wore a long coat that covered most of his body, despite the day's warmer temperature. His face was covered with a dark brown rag, though Jessie was sure it would've been black if not for lots of grime and dirt, and it left the top third of his face out to the open air. Wisps of windswept blonde hair peeked out from the brim of a black hat. His brown eyes seemed to pierce into her soul.

Jessie's stomach fell. What if this man was dangerous? What if he was searching for someone to take hostage for ransom? What if he was simply and outlaw. Or the worst of all - What if he was a pedophile?

Then her curiosity took hold. What was he doing here? What if he was willing to give her something for keeping this meeting a secret? She debated the outcomes for a moment, and then decided what she was going to do.

"What are you doing here?" Jessie asked, puffing her chest a little bit. (Woody said this made you look more respectable. _Although its never worked for him, _Jessie thought.)

The man stared at her for a moment. The look on his face was rather "holier-than-thou"; as if he was trying to say "How dare you speak to me?" This look of confusion was soon wiped away and was replaced by a simple stare.

"I'm a tax collector," he explained, "I've been riding from town to town the past few days. But my horse was pregnant, so I thought I'd camp out for a few days until she had the foal." His voice was muffled by the rag that covered his mouth.

"You rode her while she was _pregnant_?" Jessie asked the man as though he were an idiot. "That's animal cruelty!" The man continued to simply stare at her. "The foal, is it okay?"

"Sure it's okay!" he said with a deep chuckle. "The most beautiful foal I ever did see." He had a thick southern accent and his voice would make one thing he didn't know much.

Jessie's heart leaped. The man seemed kind enough, even if he was a bit absent-minded. And why else would he mention the foal if he didn't want it taken off his hands? She took the leap of faith.

"Are you planning on keeping her? The foal, I mean?" Jessie stumbled over her words in anticipation.

"_Him_," the man replied, "And I wasn't planning on it. To be honest, I haven't yet thought of what I'm going to do with him."

"I'll take him off your hands." she tried to stay as calm as possible.

"Hey kid, everything comes with a price." Even with his mouth covered up, Jessie could tell he had a mischievous grin slapped on his face. She slapped herself mentally. Of course the man would want money! He was a _tax collector_.

"I could always shoot an arrow through your foot...Or hand. Which do you prefer?" She said with a wink, though her tone did not suggest playfulness.

"_Fine_." He walked up and snatched the bow and arrow from her hands. The man mumbled something about retrieving the foal, and disappeared into the woods for a moment. Jessie squealed quietly. She pranced around, performing an awkward dance.

When the man returned she could see a brown form behind him. As the brown horse marched before her, Jessie nearly toppled over. It was by far the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her entire life.

Before she had time to thank the mysterious stranger, he was gone.

~()~

"But...You told me you saved up your money to buy Bullseye!" Woody stuttered. Jessie smirked as she reached for another handful of sunflower seeds.

"That was a lie. Do you really think my parents would wake up one day and decide to let me get a horse?" she said happily.

"I gave you my allowance for an entire year just to help you out!" the sheriff cried.

"It _did _help me out," Jessie explained, hoping not to press his buttons to hard, "I bought a saddle, some food, and all that other stuff you need to have a horse. As for the extra money, I used that to build up my candy stash."

"My allowance!" Woody said sadly. When he didn't hear Jessie reply, he glanced over to see if she had fallen asleep. (It was quite late after all.) He wasn't surprised to see her gazing at her horse.

After a moment, she laid her head on his shoulder. Woody froze for a moment, wondering what to do. He glanced down at Jessie to see a sleepy smile on her face.

"Thanks again." she said quietly. Woody wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently.

They had a mutual agreement - Bullseye was most definitely okay.

_A/N Fanfiction logged me out one day and didn't save my hour of work. I was quite pissed...Although I think the final product is much better than what my deleted stuff was. But anyways, I'm pretty sure I'm in my writing mode again. :D Expect more frequent updates! A/N_


	10. Blue

_A/N Hello, everyone! *waves* As you probably already know, I've been going through the requests I've gotten, and now I'm on the last one! This was an idea requested by Evelyn Knight. :D (Hopefully you remember what your idea was...It was a while back. XD) Keep sending in ideas! All of them help me out a lot!_

_I'd also like to add: The last chapter was exactly 2,000 words. I couldn't have told you this in that chapter, or it wouldn't have been 2,000 words. So it made my OCD-side quite happy. ^_^_

_Oh, and one more thing: There's a random poll on my profile if you'd like to take part. :D Okay, I'm done now. A/N_

It was one of the most pleasant times of the year. It was quite warm outside, but a light breeze made things less humid. Such beautiful weather called for many outdoor activities; baseball, gardening, and water games had gotten the town stirring with excitement.

But the sports and blooming flowers weren't the only reasons why the population was excited. It was what these things silently announced.

The annual spring dance.

Woody took in the sweet air as he pinned up one last poster. It had a simple design; it didn't need to be eye-catching since most everyone already knew about it. The sheriff stood back, making sure the paper was hanging straight. Confirming this with a nod, he patted Bullseye on the head.

"Done!" Woody said happily. He and the horse walked down the street together, side by side as though they were two pals talking to each other. (Which they really were, if you were to pay attention.)

"Done with what?" Jessie asked, seeming to arrive out of thin air. Woody jumped slightly but tried not to show his sudden scare.

"Putting up posters for the spring dance. Are you going?"

"I don't understand the point of the spring dance. The only thing it's good for are bragging rights; who you go with and what you wear." Jessie said huffily.

"But-but it's a tradition! You're not telling me you _aren't_going to the spring dance?" Woody stuttered incredulously.

"That's _exactly_what I'm saying!" she said with a stomp of her foot. Before the sheriff could react, Jessie had Bullseye by the reigns and was leading him down the street.

Despite being surprised at Jessie's sudden outburst, he decided to let her walk away; let her blow off some steam. He needed to get some paperwork done anyways.

With his cup of piping coffee never more than a foot away, Woody scratched his pen into the paper in a rushed manner. This was his _least_favorite part of the job. After about an hour of filling in blanks, the tiny black letters would begin to look like blurred, depressing rain clouds to the one who was doing the paperwork. The sheriff had considered paying someone to do this job, but he couldn't trust anyone else with such classified information.

This day the sheriff was paying less attention to his scribbles than usual. One thing was gnawing away at his conscience- Why did Jessie have such a hatred for the spring dance? He'd seen her at every one with a bright smile on her face, so her previous experiences must not have been _that_bad. There had always been someone there for her to talk to or dance with. So what was the problem?

Sighing, the sheriff began filing away his forms. Jessie was one of the only people he simply could not figure out. She always had another trick up her sleeve, a secret, or an opinionated disagreement. And even though this confusion drove him utterly _insane_, Woody had to admit that he enjoyed the fact that he learned something new about her everyday.

Woody's ears perked as he heard a soft whimper from outside. He closed his filing cabinet softly and tiptoed to his door, cracking it open ever so carefully.

Sitting on the step was Dorothy Rippringham, the banker's daughter. Aged in her mid-twenties, she was the richest lady in the town. (Apart from her mother, of course.) Her chocolate hair was always pinned up in a bun with a few loose, curly strands framing her doll-like face. There were rumors that she traveled three hours by train every two weeks just to see the newest fashion trends in the nearest big city. When they had been teenagers, Woody and his friends would have done anything just to _speak_to her.

Woody coughed softly, unsure of what to say. Dorothy whipped around at the sound of a new visitor. Tears flowed from red, puffy eyes. _And somehow, she looks even more beautiful,_ Woody thought. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand quickly and made a failed attempt at trying to compose herself. The sheriff sat down beside her on the step and handed her a hankie from his pocket. Dorothy smiled bashfully and continued to wipe away her tears.

"What's wrong?" Woody asked after a moment.

"The dance." her voice suggested the same hatred Jessie had expressed earlier.

"What is it with girls and the dance?" he said half-jokingly.

"We're waiting for the _guys_to ask us. It's nerve-wracking." Dorothy said accusingly. Woody's eyebrows furrowed, which was noticed by Dorothy. She stared at him expectantly. The sheriff's stomach flipped as he put the pieces together. _She_was expecting _him_to ask _her_.

"You can go with me, if you want." his voice shook nervously.

_A few moments earlier..._

Jessie hopped up the steps to the general store. She had decided she needed a mid-morning snack. The cowgirl walked up to the stand of apples and inspected a few in the front and shook her head with a smile. Her philosophy never failed- the apples in the front were always bruised beyond belief. Jessie stood on her tiptoes to grab a few from the back. Finally retrieving one that exceeded her standards, she turned away from the wooden stand.

A certain girl caught her eye from across the street. A _weeping_girl.

_Dorothy Rippringham._The name sounded retched even in her mind. The stuck-up schoolgirl from her childhood sat on the step of the sheriff's office, face buried in her palms and crying with such volume that it wasn't believable whatsoever. Jessie rolled her eyes.

_What a desperate, disgusting creature._Jessie joked to herself. She turned on her heel, preparing to pay for her snack.

The cowgirl did a double-take. _The sheriff's office?_

~()~

"Come with me," Jessie said loudly, dragging him by the arm. "I have something to show you." She dragged him towards the stables.

"But I was just about to-"

"No you weren't." she wasn't even looking at him; her eyes were fixated on their destination.

Woody looked behind him and gave Dorothy a shrug just as Jessie pulled him into the barn.

"What's so important?" the sheriff asked with slight anger in his voice.

"I just-I-I think Bullseye's sick again!" Jessie pointed at her horse desperately. He raised an eyebrow.

"This doesn't have anything to do with the dance, does it?" Woody rolled his eyes.

"You can't go with her!" Jessie exploded, her hands forming fists at her sides.

"I can go with whoever I want, thank you very much!" his voice began to rise, "And it's not like anybody _else_would go with me!" Woody pointed at her as he made this remark.

"I'd never go with you in a million years!"

"Good!"

"Fine!"

Jessie stomped out of the barn and slammed the door. The sheriff huffed and sat himself on a bale of hay.

~()~

Tears streamed down Jessie's face as she stumbled down the grassy hillside. She sat at the oak tree that stood quite tall at the base of the hill. The shadows of its long branches hugged and comforted her.

After a moment, Jessie had finally calmed down enough to think clearly. She wiped away the remaining tears sliding down her cheeks with a harsh swipe of the hand.

The conflict between her and Woody had happened so fast that at first she couldn't quite comprehend what was going on. The scene replayed in her head, making matters quite worse.

_Of course _she wanted to go with him. Wasn't it obvious? Going with her best friend would be much easier than going with some other bag of filth in the town. And then there were the _other _reasons…

Now Jessie wondered if she had messed up not just her chances of going to the dance with Woody, but also the undeniable friendship the two shared.

~()~

Woody peeked out the makeshift window of the barn. He watched Jessie fall at the feet of the oak tree, her face buried in her hands. It made his stomach bubble with a mixture of anger and guilt.

The sheriff glanced over at Bullseye, who had been glaring at Woody ever since Jessie had left.

"I don't have anything to be sorry for," Woody folded his arms as he read the horse's mind, "And I'm not going to apologize, or-or ask her to the dance. You can just forget about it."

The two continued their staring contest as a moment of silence passed. Bullseye grinned as he noticed Woody's expression softening.

"Shut up." Woody muttered as he walked towards the door, beginning his pursuit.

As the sheriff reached the oak tree, he contemplated the things he should say and mentally braced himself for a slap that was surely coming his way.

"Jess?" he said softly, kneeling down beside her. She looked up at him with puffy eyes and strands of hair falling from her braid. Jessie sniffed, but after that there was silence for a moment. Woody laid a gentle hand on her arm.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"You should be." She said, her voice a mixture of sarcasm and anger.

"I've been told I'm an idiot when it comes to this stuff. Which I won't deny-" Jessie flung her arms around his neck, cutting him off. He felt leftover tears soak into his shoulder as he helped her up. They began making their way back towards town, the sheriff's arm slung sloppily around her shoulder.

Jessie broke off as they approached the barn. (Woody assumed she was going for an afternoon ride.) He watched her walk away without even saying goodbye, and the sheriff had to admit it bothered him.

"Hey," he called out. She spun around, braid flying wildly. "You're going to the dance with me."

Jessie grinned and nodded.

~()~

On a mild spring night some days later, a large tent had been set up. Inside most of the population had gathered, and the conversations blended together to form a loud hum. There were tables full of drinks, desserts, and snacks. A live band was playing away on a makeshift stage.

The sheriff stood in a corner beside the entrance, waiting for Jessie to arrive. He twiddled his thumbs nervously, hoping that (A) Jessie would show up and (B) Dorothy wouldn't find out Jessie was his date.

The volume of the crowd lowered considerably when Jessie walked in. She wore a simple blue dress and her hair had been pulled back into a bun. Stunned would be a perfect word to describe the entire crowd.

Woody didn't stop himself from thinking.

He was pretty sure that he was in love.

_A/N Just to let you know, I'm slapping my own hand right now. I promised myself I wouldn't go down this road again…But it was just too tempting! DX_

_Nontheless, I hope you enjoyed! ;D If there's something you'd like to see happen, let me know!_

_PS: I noticed there were a lot of different "sections" in this chapter. It kinda confused me when proofreading, so let me know if it bothered you! A/N_


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